Page 38 of Trivium

“Why are you lurking?” Ahmina asked. Had he been following them? Watching them fail the assessment? Was he just waiting to rub it in?

“Lurking?” Lennox pushed off from the tree and approached her. “I don’t lurk.” He paused. “Most of the time.”

“What would you call it then?”

“Just checking you’re both alive and well.”

“So babysitting.”

“You’re not a child.”

“Then don’t⁠—"

“Both of you shut up,” Rory ordered, arms tense at her sides. “Are you going to tell us how to get the hell out of here or not? We’re wasting time.”

“Sorry, that’s not allowed.” He shrugged playfully, the corners of his lips tipping up.

Ahmina scowled at him.

“Wouldn’t want to break the rules, would we?” His eyes flared. “But if we were to break the rules, I’d say you shouldn’t go that way.” Ahmina looked at Rory, who gave a small nod. They should head right instead of continuing left. She would never say it out loud, but she was glad to see Lennox. At least they were going in the right direction again.

Now with her two companions, Ahmina moved at a quick, confident clip, feeling her way through the underbrush. While she didn’t like that they had needed Lennox’s help to get back on track, she was eager to complete the assessment and get back to the safety of the castle.

They hadn’t descended far down their path when Ahmina felt it. A burning sensation ripped through her ankle, and within seconds, climbed her calf, carving out her thigh before seeping into her stomach, ribcage, chest, neck, and throat. Every vein in her body burned, fire racing through muscle and organs, down to her very cells. She screamed, the pain blinding. The seconds felt like minutes, until the pain was so unbearable she lost consciousness.

When she awoke, she was drenched in perspiration, curled up in the fetal position. Her body was an ember, burning softly, the pain slowly easing. She opened her eyes to find Rory crouched down in front of her. Tears streamed down her freckled cheeks as she lifted Ahmina in a hug.

“I thought you were dying!”

Ahmina found it difficult to speak. Her whole body ached. But she managed to scrape out enough of her voice to ask what had happened.

“You were bitten by a Venom Viper.” Lennox’s voice was hoarse, his mouth and chest covered in blood. Venom Viper, a serpent of the night whose venom pierces your bloodstream and increases its temperature to unbearable, lethal levels. She recalled the information that had been ingrained from night after night of study.

“Come on, we need to get you back to the infirmary.” Even in the dark, she could see the blood in his teeth.

“What happened to you?” she croaked out, horrified, her voice barely a whisper.

“Don’t ask questions. Just rest,” Lennox ordered, his tone strained.

Rory and Lennox supported her on each side, and she limped along with them, tripping over everything. Her legs felt like ash. All she could think about was how this would impact her assignment grade. Her anxiety surged as she realized she would most definitely fail. While her thoughts swirled, she slipped in and out of consciousness, chanting “pass the assessment” in her mind over and over and over again until the darkness claimed her.

26

ZEINA

Whispers of surprise assessments clung to her ears. Despite her close call with the Falcon, the last few weeks had made her more confident, and once again, curiosity got the best of her as she followed Ahmina’s Trivium squad out beyond the wall. For research, she told herself. The more she knew about Ahmina, the better she would be able to pass as her.

She hung back, listening from under the hatch that led out into the forest, and waited until the voices quieted to cross the threshold. Scaling a tree in the dark, she watched Professor Barrow and Lennox discuss the assessment before Lennox offered to discreetly check on the students and disappeared into the darkness. Then, not long after, she watched as Professor Barrow and a female student—Loveleena was her name—spoke about a missing boy.

Almost two hours later, Lennox rejoined the group with an unconscious Ahmina in his arms, her head lolling back like a ragdoll, and a worried Rory by his side. They promptly whisked her away to the infirmary, with a class of first years frantically whispering behind them. Once the hallway had cleared, Zeina slipped into the infirmary and hid behind a small supply cart.

She didn’t particularly care about Ahmina. But seeing her there, whimpering in her sleep from pain, made her chest tight. She watched as the Alchemist healers attended to Ahmina in candlelight. The infirmary was surprisingly large, with cedar privacy screens to separate patients, so she was able to keep out of the moonlight and stay hidden. An Alchemist requested a particular potion be made by Professor Hashiluna. Lennox, who sat dutiful by Ahmina’s side, didn’t waste any time and set off to find Hashiluna. Curious, Zeina followed, finally settling silently outside the window to watch the Alchemy professor perform each step of the process. She learned a lot from Hashiluna that night—the way she became lost in the process, eyes closing, hands moving methodically. Whatever medicine she made for Ahmina was made without instruction, and once she was finished, Zeina could feel the creation in her heart. Its healing powers were potent—that she knew.

On the third day in the infirmary, Ahmina’s condition took a turn for the worse. “She’s declining,” the Alchemist with a chestnut bob said, the tips of her hair brushing her jaw as she frowned in confusion.

The second Alchemist that had been attending to Ahmina shook his head. “I don’t understand why. We’ve done everything we can; the potions should have healed her. No one in Jarrah is as skilled as Hashiluna.” He shrugged in defeat. “There’s nothing else we can do. Now, we wait.”

Zeina couldn’t be seen in Alchemy or around school while Ahmina was bedridden, so she ate at night, stealing small scraps from the kitchen. Now that her stomach was used to regular meals, a ravenous hunger clawed at her during the day. She distracted herself by focusing on her midnight Alchemy sessions.